Porn, Drugs, and DDR
by drownedmachines
Summary: Pickles/Toki canoodling. Pickles looks all around Mordhouse to find someone he can get a rise out of...  slash!


It was the middle of the day and Charles had been prodding Pickles and Nathan to get moving on their next album, with no success. They were doing as little as possible right then while the rest of the band had been hard at work. Dethklok's vocalist was shooting the breeze with its drummer after Pickles' return to Mordhaus from a business trip a half-hour before. Toki had finally finished work after a long night in the recording room re-doing his track for "Nightcrawler," a song about killing mosquitoes and other insects; Murderface was killing mosquitoes, and possibly other insects, with a microscope lens. It was hard research for the album. As for Skwisgaar, he was probably asleep still. He was next on Charles' list, as he'd explained to Pickles and Nathan before calling Pickles and Nathan slackers and turning out of the room.

Pickles was loading his bong and Nathan was on the sofa across from him, remote in one meaty hand and a fifth of Jack Daniels in the other.

"I don't give a fuck. Affdensehn can shove it. Anyways," Pickles admired the bong in his hands for a second. A new purchase with a tall streamlined neck and curved spikes jutting out from it. Pickles sucked in fast, and let the smoke hang in his lungs as he talked. "This one chick, she must have had tattoos over- over like eighty percent of her bahdy! All dragons and yoonicorns and Medieval shit." Finally he exhaled. "She had a huge witch mahnster ahn her back that was, like, havin' sex with a wolf, it was brutal." He poked the ash around in the bowl. "Kinda sloppy in bed, though. The tats were the main attraction."

"Huh. Brutal. Witches are brutal. They can turn you into, um, a bunch of toads." He pondered this.

"Why don't we have one?" Nathan thought about the witches from Macbeth, all green and old.

"A witch? I danno. Toads are nasty though, don't get any. Dere are too many toads out there already." He mused. "What we should do is get a witch to like, do tricks for us, like turn rocks into chipmunks, or turn a buncha girls lesbian." Pickles chuckled at the thought. "_Gahd_, that tattoo lady was the last. I think that was a week ago. I've just been too busy drinking to get any." He sucked back another cloud of vapory, floral smoke, and waxed pornogaphic. "Bahndage always makes me horny, no matter how shitty it is." When Nathan did not respond, Pickles ignored the awkward gap. He felt frisky. He wanted to mess with Nathan a little, who looked like he was going catatonic with boredom.

"Nat'en, you should _really_ hit this, c'mahn." He tilted the bong lip toward Nathan, knowing he'd probably turn it down anyway. Nathan's green eyes flicked over it apprehensively, then turned back to the screen.

"I'm focusing on hard liquor right now, thanks."

"Ya sure?" Pickles shot him a catlike grin. "This shit'll go straight to yer dome. It's like, green gold." He slid the bulb down between his legs with the shaft pointed at his bandmate, and rubbed his fingers up and down the curvature suggestively. "C'maaahn."

"Okay. " Nathan's hand shot out. He did not look away from the screen. "Gimme the bong."

Pickles sighed. "You are so lazy, jeez. No way I'm getting up so _you_ can use _my_ bahng."

"Ok cool, don't share with me, you prick." Nathan growled, then stopped the TV on a group bondage scenario.

"Whoa, you didn't even want any before!" He torched the last of the bowl, with some effort. "There, it's too late now." he coughed out. "Gaahd, what _is_ this? Look at that dood, he looks like your grampa. No thanks."

"You're not supposed to be looking at him. Guys in porn are always ugly." They watched absently as the wrinkly man jacked off on a bound woman's tits. Wrinkles. Adjacent to them hung real-looking D cups that were flat, like uneven pancakes. "This chick is gross too." Nathan continued to stare at the monitor, close enough it got blurry. The young woman had beautiful… hair, but that was it. Staring intently didn't help. And the smoker's cough... that was sexy. He changed the channel. He was in the mood for something _really _fucked up.

The hardcore sex was turning Pickles on… a lot. After his dry spell, it was almost enough to jerk off. But he felt a little lonely after his trip, so he decided to hold off the urge and instead find someone he could get a rise out of and who wouldn't be a dick about it.

"This is gay. I'm ganna go see what Toki's doing."

"Something gayer." Nathan said. He had a way with getting to the heart of things.

Pickles hauled himself off the couch and through the corridor.

Meanwhile, Toki was slavishly flinging himself through levels of DDR. If he wasn't graceful, he was on the beat, and had finally gotten to Expert when Pickles popped up in front of the screen.

"Hi's Pickle, I's trying to gets throughs this now so coulds you… removes your face please?" he said, with just a tiny bit of urgency.

Pickles just smiled lazily. He wanted to get a rise out of Toki, and this would piss him off more than anything. He just loomed there, bong in hand, grinning pleasantly.

`"HI, Pickle… MOVES!" Toki swatted his face. Pickles held on to the rail with both hands to secure his position. Toki growled a little exasperated growl, then flailed blindly on the arrows as he poked Pickles' eyes Three Stooges style and tugged hard at his dreads. Finally Pickles had to flinch, but it was too late – the screen proclaimed Toki's failure.

Pickles jeered, but he was faced with Toki's blank stare. "Ha hah, you lahst! … Hey, lighten up already, it's a game, fer cryin' out loud!" Toki's eyes were scrunched up like he was about to cry.

"Toki? Jeez, I'm sahrry, OK?"

Toki was silent. He still clutched a few dreadlocks tight in his palm. Then, very quietly, Pickles made out, "…I work so long on thems dildos levels," before he was blindsighted, and his whole body shoved headfirst into the ground. His skull smashed against the console, but worse, his bong shot high into the air. He winced as he heard it explode into a billion pieces.

"Hey ASSHOLE, that was my new favorite bahng!" Pickles was suddenly as infuriated as he could be when he was stoned. But more importantly, he liked how easily Toki had lost his cool. This was a side of the airheaded guitarist he just didn't see very much, and he liked it. He grabbed Toki's shirt and pulled down. Toki glared at him – their faces were close now – and in one smooth motion backhanded him across the cheek. Pickles stumbled over from the impact. Damn, that hurt!

"I beens dancing dancing revolutions for eights hours, you whores!" Toki bawled.

Pickles screamed from the floor. "You better pay for my bahng, you brat!" he seethed.

"NEVERS!" Toki slapped him again, bringing a flush of blood to his skin. This time Pickles managed to claw Toki down with him, and they were both on the floor. Pickles squirmed his legs to try to get them out from under the guitarist's hips, but Toki was by far more powerful, and his legs had Pickles' in a tight clamp. Toki pinned Pickles' shoulder against the game machine with one hand and continued to slap him with the other. Pickles grappled until he caught the offending hand and bent the wrist back painfully.

"Ouchies! Plays nice, Pickle!" He caught both the redhead's wrists in his tense, muscular grip, and clocked Pickles in the face with his own hand.

"Why you hits yourselfs, dummy?" he sneered. As with many things, Toki had no idea what had started this, but now he had won and it felt intense.

Pickles was spent and panting, and was just about to say uncle when he felt a knobby pressure poking at his stomach. _That _was interesting…

So interesting that he bucked up against it for a moment. Toki's eyes fluttered, and Pickles' mischievous grin reappeared. "Well well, looks like little Toki gets off on herting people. I shoulda known." But he pushed his hips up again, slower this time, languishing in the slowness and his newfound victory. He was still horny as hell, and this was _much_ more stimulating than masturbation – even if it was _Toki_, of all people, and his cock was straining dry against his jeans. It was the game that had him caught. He had no idea where it was going.

Toki reddened and his grip faltered, but he did not resist, giving Pickles the opportunity to pull Toki's face close to his. Pickles smelled sugary-sweet cola on his breath.

"Maybe you jest say yer sahrry."

Toki flamed. "Noes!" He pressed his arms down on Pickles' chest, then played with languid motions at squeezing the air out of his lungs. The corners of his mouth curved upwards, which would be pretty, Pickles thought, if it weren't for that fucked-up evil streak.

"You… are the ones whos lookings… sorriest…" He wrapped his legs tight around Pickles', painfully, and their groins were brought flush against each other. Pickles made a little sound of mixed discomfort and arousal.

Toki was too turned on by this. He was some mixture of machine-like pounding rage, having fun and being powerfully turned on. _Why ams I always the jokes-butts? _a voice inside him yowled. _I never do nothings wrong, and they always makes funs!_ _But looks who laughings now!_

Pickles found he could move his hands now that Toki was trying to smoosh his chest instead, and tentatively wiggled his fingertips under the hem of Toki's jeans to grope his skinny ass. This made Toki jolt like a sock to the jaw. It seemed to return him to his normal wide-eyed innocence, and he murmured, "Pickle, you really dirty." Looked him right in his eyes.

Pickles would have burst into laughter – Toki had _no_ idea – if it hadn't been for the crushing pressure on his chest. "H-hey, Toki, let up, huh?" Pickles was trying hard to get more than a mouthful of air. He pawed at Toki's fingers a few times, trying not to come across as frantic. Toki looked like he'd forgotten all about his hands.

"Ohs. Ja, I let you breathes now." He smiled and sat up straight on Pickles, which pinched Pickles' balls underneath Toki's full weight. Pickles sucked in air only to whimper loudly at _that _source of discomfort.

"Ee-ugh, faack, Toki, you're SMASHING MY NUTS!" Pickles roared. He found the strength of ten men and kicked Toki off like a ragdoll. He really, really didn't want crushed nuts.

Toki rubbed his head, then got up from the floor. His eyes were blank, unreadable. He still sported a mean erection.

Wait, what the fuck just happened?

"Shit, I jest came in heer to see if ya wanted ta get high..." Pickles concentrated on trying to haul himself up from the DDR pads – his ass was sore from the pointy plates, his face burned in angry streaks, and his balls ached. Sweet. But all that hadn't tamed his libido. And Toki's hard-on lifted out right at eye level to his place on the floor.

Pickles: "You-ah, wanna take care of that."

Toki looked down, then looked at the flushed redhead below him. "Yous wants to takes care of it, ja?"

Before he could respond, Murderface came bitching through the door. "Whatsch the fuck wasch that noisch? You guysch doing schomething fun in here? Ya fuckin' woke me up, you assholesch!"

Toki turned around, still wielding a rock-hard erection. "Brokes a bongs. Whoopsies. We leaves now." He grabbed Pickles by the arm and shuffled out as best he could.

"You dicksch! There's broken glassch on the floor schtill!" Murderface stopped. Toki. Hard-on. "Wait. What the fucksch?"

Ohhh, this was bad.

Toki cemented his hand on Pickles' wrist and wouldn't let go until they had reached Toki's room. He shut the door.

"This is not gays. Toki likes womens."

"Ah, whatever you say, dood." Then he grabbed Toki's bulge through his jeans. This didn't assuage Toki's fears, at all. He just stared hard at Pickles, looking like he was caught between fucking him and strangling him.

"Now jest _chill_, Toki buddy, see? Yer trouser snake don't know the differnce." he said with a smirk. He squeezed Toki's bulge hard, and twisted so the younger man mewled and fell back on his bed. Still clutching Toki's junk, he straddled his legs and lay above him so they were touching from arms to ankles. They breathed into each other's faces until Pickles couldn't stand it and he pressed his lips to Toki's.

At this Toki's whole body stiffened in response. He broke the kiss and rolled over so that he regained his position on top. "No, that's… definitelys gays." he whispered.

Pickles moaned in exasperation. He was going to explode if he didn't get some purchase on Toki's body. His fingers found Toki's silky hair and twisted the strands, then forced them down to claim a fierce, angry kiss. Toki tried to resist, to cry out, and when that didn't work he bit hard into Pickles' lip.

Pickles smiled, feeling his lip swell and prickle. This was not going to be easy.

"So, I can't do that… Can I do this?" He stroked Toki's forearm very gently, making little circles on the skin that made him shudder. He grabbed Toki's little finger. He took it into his mouth and swirled his tongue around the tip. Toki watched him, feeling like maybe he liked the drummer more than he thought he did. As Pickles worked the fingers he sneaked around with his free hand to Toki's ass.

And then out of nowhere Toki shoved his fingers down Pickles' throat. Pickles made a muffled protest. He felt used, angrily wanting his erection to be paid a little attention. Toki just smiled. He tweaked the redhead's nipples under his shirt, making him rock his hips up rough against Toki, and cry out a little too. Toki unbuttoned his jeans and shoved them down – his cock was finally freed!

They moved hard and fast against each other, feeling the rushing sensations rough on their skin. Suddenly Pickles sunk down to his hands and knees. He opened his mouth around Li'l Toki, moaned around him, and breathed on the wet skin as he began to jack himself off. "You… so dirty… Pickle." Toki frowned as best he could, then bent forward to grab the redhead's long hair and run his fingers over it gently. Pickles looked up, surprised and flushed.

"Yer so… Toki, Toki." he said. And then they kissed.


End file.
